we fly balloons on this fuel called love
by freelux
Summary: Cat comes to some conclusions in the rain. JadeCat.


a/n: i have no idea. i stared at my computer screen for an hour, drank some gatorade and this happened. yay?

whatever you think of it, you should leave me a review :o i'd like that very much. even if it does suck and i want to stab it with a really really really sharp-ass fork.

pretty cat-centric, cat/jade as the pairing. sort of. i mean, it is...but...just read it. it'll all (kind of) make sense by the end.

* * *

It's no secret that Cat likes to run around in the rain.

She doesn't understand why people complain about it raining, or how rainy weather is 'for the birds' (that's what her mother says, at least). She thinks it's beautiful, the way it comes down in bucketfuls yet still manages to seem graceful, and it feels nice when it hits her skin and really, who cares if it messes up her hair or ruins her shirt? Because in that moment it's all so nice and quiet and she feels like an airplane just like she used to when she was little.

Cat likes to run around in the rain and make up little funny stories in that jumbled head of hers. She pretends she's a princess and the park is her kingdom and the trees are her idle loyal subjects. It's a game that goes on for hours after the rain stops and the sun is still trying to force it's way from behind the gray clouds.

When skipping around in the rain - for Cat at least - the world is like a blank canvas that she is free to doodle all over with her thoughts. She can paint pink stars in the sky and toss imaginary glitter in the trees; but that's only when it rains.

And today it's raining and Cat's doing none of her regular ritual. No humming to herself absentmindedly as she makes up a story about her brother and a dragon. No paintings in the sky or imaginary creatures or anything of that sort.

Today she's lying on her back in the soaking grass, staring at the sky and thinking. And for once she's not thinking about something silly like how it would be so cool if she went out and bought glow-in-the-dark stars for her ceiling or how funny it is when her dog does laps around the kitchen table.

Today, Cat's thinking about Jade. Jade and all her dark-haired, dark-eyed wonderfulness. She's not embarrassed to admit that she thinks that Jade is pretty, because she is. Even when she's not smiling (and _really_ smiling), even when there's a scowl that looks like it's plastered on her face for good, she's still pretty.

And she's nice to Cat. No matter how many insults are thrown her way from several students, the only real insults Jade gives her are joking ones that she pairs with a little smile and a roll of her eyes. Cat likes that.

Cat likes Jade.

It's as simple as it sounds, actually. Cat isn't sure what people mean when they say that love is a complicated thing, because she came to that conclusion (all by herself, too!) so quickly she's even surprised herself.

And she's not second-guessing herself, either.

She doesn't think it's complicated. She thinks it simply is what it is. It's not some deep, concealed emotion that she has to dig deep to find; it's just _there_ on the surface, like a boat floating in the sea. And that image distracts Cat for a while, too.

A little lonely boat, floating in the vast sea. A vast sea of nothing but water and the occasional scary-looking fish.

Cat's the boat.

And one day the little lonely boat is especially lonely when it looks out into the horizon and sees another boat, a pretty boat that's not supposed to be there. It's almost out of place, but lo and behold, here it is, just a few hundred feet away from the lonely boat.

The pretty, mysterious boat is scary at first but actually turns out being really nice, and the little lonely boat isn't so lonely anymore.

The end, Cat thinks, smiling.

She realizes that she could very well be the lonely boat, and Jade might as well be the mysteriously beautiful boat that comes to her rescue.

Just like a fairy tale.

A twisted, crazy fairy tale; most certainly not the kind with a laminated glittery cover that sits at the front of the display of children's books in a book store.

Cat prefers it that way.

She realizes with a giggle that the rain is still falling, the fat drops causing her pale skin to break out in goose bumps. The good kind, though.

With her mind almost at ease, Cat springs up and trots around the field, making up a story about a princess (herself) locked in a tower and how a girl that everyone's convinced in mean (but to the princess she's actually very sweet) comes to her rescue and they run off into a field of flowers and into the sunset.

It's so cliché. But there's nothing cliché about Jade. Cat's certain of it.

Okay, she admits silently, maybe like (she's not prepared to use the word _love_ yet) is complicated. Maybe tomorrow she'll go up to Jade and tell her. Maybe she'll try and end up sneezing on her and running away crying. Maybe she'll stay home sick.

Cat sighs deeply. She'll have to think about it. Devise some mastermind plan to tell Jade she likes her that she can't screw up with some idiotic move that only she can pull off. One that's foolproof. One that's...Catproof.

Of course, it'll take a lot of thought. That's okay, though.

Because the sky above is still gray, droplets of rain are still falling and soaking her hair, and she still (and probably always will) thinks Jade's one of the prettiest girls she's ever seen.

Rain is good for thinking.

* * *

yeah, that just made no freaking sense whatsoever. i hate it. feel free to bug me about the errors, because i'm sure there are plenty. i didn't check it over. ehhh.


End file.
